


Lock'd In

by Elri



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, M/M, Post-Canon, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elri/pseuds/Elri
Summary: Aziraphale tries something new, Crowley is not prepared, tender moments ensue





	Lock'd In

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw these images by [these](https://retrouvel.tumblr.com/post/185756810232/psst-hey-what-if-aziraphale-had-extremely-long) [images](https://retrouvel.tumblr.com/post/185756769027/would-you-consider-drawing-az-with-long-hair-an) by tumblr user [retrouvel](https://retrouvel.tumblr.com/) and got inspired. That's all

When Crowley walked into A.Z. Fell & Co. (who the hell was Co.? Aziraphale hadn’t let anyone else work in the shop since ever), he almost immediately walked right into a shelf as soon as he saw Aziraphale. The angel was sitting at his desk, hunched over a book, with a forgotten cup of cocoa at his elbow. All that was fine, that was a perfectly normal scene that he’d seen plenty of times before. The part that got him, the thing that made him almost impale himself on the sharp corners of a bookshelf, was Aziraphale’s hair.

Aziraphale’s hair, which had been the _exact_ same for ~~hundreds~~ _thousands_ of years (minus some sideburns or the faintest hint of product in order to blend in), was _different_. And it wasn’t a little different, oh no; it wasn’t like Azirphale had just straightened it or cut it a little or (Heaven forbid) styled it, no. His hair now _cascaded_ down past his shoulders in long, thick, _luxurious_ looking curls. Crowley’s fingers twitched as he felt the sudden urge to run them through it. With the light shining in from the window onto him, Aziraphale looked, well, angelic.

It wasn’t until Aziraphale looked up and smiled at him in surprise that Crowley realized he’d just been standing there, staring. “Hello, Crowley.”

“Hello, Angel. New hair?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale looked down at it, frowning slightly, “I thought I might try something new, but I’m not sure about it.”

“I like it,” Crowley said a little too quickly, “It suits you.”

“Do you think so? It’s a bit difficult to manage. I tried brushing it earlier and it turned into a mess.”

“You _brushed_ your naturally very curly hair?”

“Well…yes.”

“Oh, Angel. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

It had been a while since Crowley’s own hair had been as long as Aziraphale’s was now, and his had never been as curly, but he remembered a few things about upkeep from his time as a nanny. After all, it wouldn’t have done for a proper British nanny, especially that of an American ambassador’s son, to ever not look perfectly put together. He returned to the bookshop armed with products and supplies.

“Is all that really necessary?” Aziraphale asked, following Crowley to his kitchen in the back.

“Trust me, it’s not nearly as much as it could be. Here,” He pulled a chair over, putting its back to the sink, “Have a seat and tilt your head back.”

“You mean you’re going to do it?”

“I’m not going to fully wash your hair, but I can show you how to take care of it better on a regular basis. And if you decide you don’t want to do all that, at least you’ll know how it’s supposed to work.” When Aziraphale still hesitated, Crowley leaned forward on the chair, “Come on, Angel, take a chance with me,” and held out a hand. Aziraphale stepped forward and took it, letting Crowley get him into position. If the chair was a little higher than usual and there was some cushioning on the top rail that wasn’t usually there well, no need to call attention to it.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and let himself relax as Crowley massaged something into his hair, gently parting it into sections and combing out the knots with his fingers. After a quick rinse, Crowley had Aziraphale sit up and they moved to a chair with an ottoman so that Aziraphale could sit comfortably between Crowley’s legs and read a book if he wished with Crowley kept working. For about the next hour, Crowley deep massaged a leave-in conditioner into the sections, working it through with a wide-toothed comb. He indulged in his desire to touch it and separated some smaller sections out at Aziraphale’s temples, braided them around to meet at the back, and put them up in a tasteful knot. He combed through it a few more times, admiring the way it fell almost to the bottom of Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, before finally setting aside the comb.

“Alright, Angel, what do you think?”

Aziraphale stood up to look in a mirror, turning his head to look at the braids. “It feels much better,” he turned around and smiled, “Thank you, Crowley.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Crowley couldn’t help but stare again. Hell’s sake Aziraphale was beautiful. “Can I ask why you decided to do it?”

“I was looking through some old photos the other day and found the ones from Warlock’s 6th birthday party; you had let your hair down that day. I remembered you wore it down more when we weren’t on the job and wondered what it would be like. Before, when I was still working for up there,” he glanced briefly upward, “There was always an expectation to be put together and contained. Even Michael’s longer hair was always kept pinned tightly up. I suppose I wanted to feel a little rebellious.” He looked back at the mirror, running his fingers through the strands in front, “Do you really think it’s alright?”

“I think it’s gorgeous.” Crowley threw caution to the window, “ _You_ are gorgeous, Angel.”

Aziraphale met his eyes in the mirror, studying his face for a long moment. Quietly, carefully, Aziraphale turned around and walked back over to where Crowley was sitting. He looked down at Crowley with a fond smile. Moving slowly enough that Crowley could stop him if he wanted to, Aziraphale brought his hands up and pulled the ever-present shades away, looking into Crowley’s eyes.

“I wish you wouldn’t hide them so much; they’re my favorite part of you, the one part that’s always been uniquely yours.”

He cupped Crowley’s face, letting his thumb brush over the snake tattoo. Crowley couldn’t help but close his eyes and turn into the touch, his whole body releasing the tension. When Aziraphale stopped, Crowley’s hand flew up to grasp his wrist, afraid of the moment being over so soon; but Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away. Crowley opened his eyes as Aziraphale rested one knee on the ottoman so that he could lean down more comfortably. Aziraphale’s other hand came up to brush away the tears that were starting to fall down.

“May I kiss you, my dear?”

Crowley wanted to laugh, or maybe sob, because only Aziraphale would be so proper, so restrained, as to ask permission to kiss after everything that had just happened. Instead, he managed to get out a “Yes” that sounded like a plea before leaning up to meet Aziraphale’s lips as the angel leaned in to kiss him. He let go of Aziraphale’s wrist so he could put move both hands up and around Aziraphale’s neck to tangle his fingers in the curls. When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily despite not actually needing to breathe, Crowley was reluctant to let go, instead resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s.

“I take it this means you like the hair?” Aziraphale asked. This time Crowley did laugh, before pulling Aziraphale back in to kiss that stupidly beautiful smile off Aziraphale’s stupidly beautiful face.

**Author's Note:**

> So even though I have curly hair it's not super thick so I used the internet for care refs and skipped around a few steps because I figure angelic hair has different rules than human hair


End file.
